Jon Jang melds his music and his history for a 'naturalized,' timely jazz groove

David Rubien, Chronicle Staff Writer

Published 4:00 am, Tuesday, May 2, 2006

Photo: Lacy Atkins

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Photo: Lacy Atkins

Jon Jang melds his music and his history for a 'naturalized,' timely jazz groove

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Chinatown was destroyed along with much of San Francisco in the earthquake and fire of 1906. But because this was a time of severe discrimination against Chinese and Chinese Americans -- the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 barred Chinese from entering the country because they were deemed a threat to U.S. workers -- San Francisco politicians had different plans for Chinatown.

In telling this story, local pianist and composer Jon Jang quotes from one of the many books he owns about the Chinese experience in the United States: "Chinese San Francisco, 1850-1943: A Trans-Pacific Community," by Yong Chen (Stanford University Press).

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"The earthquake did not bury anti-Chinese sentiments," Chen says in the book. "Numerous newspaper reports of the Relief Committee's serious discriminatory practices prompted President Roosevelt to inquire into the situation. Acts of violence against the Chinese persisted as well. In one incident a Chinese who went back to his former residence on Sacramento Street was stoned to death 'by Western rascals.' (reported in The Chinese-Western Daily).

"Just a few days after the quake, San Francisco Mayor E.E. Schmitz promptly told the police chief that all Chinese should be placed at Hunter's Point on the southern end of the city."

It was only the Chinese Empress Dowager's influence and cash contributions that persuaded the mayor to rebuild Chinatown where it was, Chen reports.

What most interests Jang, 51, about this time is the part that affected him personally, the post-quake period that allowed his grandfather, Woo Chuck, to become a "paper son" -- a boy who was in the country illegally but was made legal by paperwork chicanery that enabled an end run around the Exclusion Act.

Jang's new CD, the latest of several he's made that address major incidents in modern Chinese and Chinese American history, is called "Paper Son, Paper Songs," and he'll be premiering the work live Wednesday at Yoshi's with his group, the Jon Jang Seven.

As Jang explains it, paper sons existed throughout the Exclusion Act, which wasn't repealed until 1943. But because official documents were burned in the 1906 fire, thousands of Chinese claiming citizenship were able to naturalize paper sons.

It worked like this, Jang says: "A Chinese with U.S. citizenship returns to China and claims he has a new son born in China. He gets paperwork, then returns to the U.S. and presents the paperwork, which allows him to bring back his 'son,' who can be a citizen. Then, through a broker, he sells the paperwork to another person.

"Whoever was taking care of my grandfather bought the papers."

Jang points out an irony. "Chinese also got into the U.S. by coming through Mexico and pretending to be Mexicans. At that time Latinos were accepted because Mexico was considered the land of conquest." In other words, because we conquered them, we could let them in as a consolation.

Why is Jang's CD titled not just "Paper Son" but "Paper Songs," as well? That has to do with what Jang sees as his unique position as a jazz musician of Chinese ancestry. "I look Chinese," he says, "but I sound American." Similarly, "The songs (with titles like "Flower Drum Song" and "Butterfly Lovers Song") look Chinese on paper, but they sound American. So I'm naturalizing the music like you naturalize someone through U.S. citizenship."

In other words, Jang is a bridge between cultures: the United States and China in the broad sense, and African American music (jazz, blues) and Chinese music (folk, opera), specifically. He illustrates the dynamic by referring to one of his recent groups, the Beijing Trio, featuring Jiebing Chen, who plays a two-string fiddle called an erhu; jazz drumming legend Max Roach; and Jang. The trio released a magnificent self-titled CD in 1999 before disbanding. The group was challenging, Jang says, because "Max didn't want to play written music, and Jiebing needed to read music. I was the bridge musically and socially."

Raised in Palo Alto along with two siblings by a single mother after his father died in a plane collision above the Grand Canyon in 1956, Jang always had an altruistic-activist bent, which he began integrating into his music after graduating from the Oberlin Conservatory of Music in 1978. Along with musicians like Fred Ho, Francis Wong and Glenn Horiuchi, Jang helped popularize the Asian American jazz movement, which combined Asian musical strains and instruments with jazz and was modeled in part on the '60s civil rights activism of jazz artists like Roach, Charles Mingus and Archie Shepp.

Jang has received commissions from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Rockefeller Foundation, Cal Performances and the Kronos Quartet, among others, and in 1994 he traveled to China on a fellowship to study the Beijing Opera.

Jang's political approach is reflected in album titles like "Never Give Up!," "Self Defense!" and "Tiananmen!," while others like "Two Flowers on a Stem" and "River of Life" evince a more contemplative side. Though absorbing Chinese sounds is his business, his language is definitely jazz, and his work with cutting-edge artists like flutist James Newton, saxophonist David Murray, not to mention Roach, is evidence. As a composer, his main models are Mingus and Duke Ellington, and you can hear their influence in the broad pastels of "Paper Son, Paper Songs."

When it comes to picking a single role model, though, Jang doesn't hesitate in naming Paul Robeson, the brilliant African American polymath singer, actor, writer and activist, whom Jang says "was an early example of a multicultural performer. He studied Chinese languages and saw a kinship between African and Chinese cultures. ... He embodied spirituality, physicality, intellect and emotion."

After receiving a grant from the Meet the Composer/Reader's Digest commission, Jang and Newton spent years working on an operalike piece about Robeson that premiered in 2000 at Zellerbach Hall as "When Sorrow Turns to Joy -- Songlines: The Spiritual Tributary of Paul Robeson and Mei Lanfang," with a libretto by local poet Genny Lim. Lanfang was a Chinese contemporary of Robeson's with similar talents and philosophies.

While they were composing the piece, Jang says, he and Newton asked themselves, "What would Paul Robeson do if he were alive? We didn't want to play 'Old Man River.' "

After the Yoshi's gig Wednesday, Jang plans on recording another CD with the septet, and he's already started working on his first symphony. Commissioned by the Sacramento Philharmonic Orchestra, the piece will pay tribute to the Chinese who built the first transcontinental railroad in the 19th century -- and who were rewarded by the passing of the Chinese Exclusion Act.